


Raven and Hank Get Married

by Sophia_Bee



Series: Charles and Erik: Man on The Train [2]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bad Art, Brotherly Love, Charles is Adoreable, Cute, Erik is Jealous, Erik is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Hank is adorable, Honeymoon, Husbands, Love, M/M, Marriage, Sequel, Smitten Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Man and the Train. Raven and Hank get married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raven and Hank Get Married

**Author's Note:**

> So many thanks to **petiteyoyo** for putting up with my wee writing habit. 
> 
> I just wanted to write the Raven and Hank and their bad-selves getting married, plus lots of FLUFF and very Snarky!Erik, and poor suffering Charles. A little Charles/Erik morning sex. Some brother/sister bonding. Awesome Hank who adores Raven. And LOVE. Lots of LOVE.

“I think I’m going to grow a beard,” Erik says, lowering his book to look at Charles with a look in his eyes that tells Charles that his husband is highly amused with himself. Charles takes a sip of his tea and stares back.

“Really, Erik?” Charles deadpans.

It’s Sunday night and Sunday night means Charles has to be in bed soon because he’ll be back at work the next day. It also means that it’s Sunday night dinner with Raven and Hank, who are currently occupying their couch, two half emptied glasses of wine on the coffee table. Charles thinks he needs to remind his sister to use coasters, but then decides against the reminder because it will either result in him having the neatly piled coasters on the end of the coffee table tossed in his general direction or he’ll get five different sets for his birthday in April. Because Raven thinks she’s funny and that he’s stodgy and boring and thinks things like coasters are important.

Charles glances over at his sister. As she threatened, Raven’s hair has gone bright red and therefore Hank’s nails are a darker shade of red. Charles wonders what his colleagues at the lab think. Then he decides it doesn’t matter. Hank does it for Raven and it’s one of the sweetest things about those two: their obnoxiously saccharine coordination as well as Hank’s endless willingness to go along with whatever crazy scheme Raven comes up with.

“What about a steampunk theme?” Raven says from where she’s curled on the couch, Hank’s head in her lap, her hand stroking his hair. Charles rolls his eyes at his sister’s suggestion.

“Oh good god, would you two just leave me alone. Is it Bother Charles night? Steampunk, Raven? Mother will have a massive coronary event.”

“Hank likes it.” Raven counters.

Hank glances up at Charles and shrugs slightly, neither endorsing Raven nor disagreeing. He’s going to make a very lovely husband. Maybe almost as lovely as the one Charles seems to have gained. Unless that one grows a beard. Speaking of, Charles returns back to the threat Erik had uttered just moments ago.

“Food gets stuck in them,” Charles says, looking back over at Erik, “Beards. Just in case you don’t think I heard you, Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Steampunk is for wannabe hipsters,” Erik mutters grumpily, ignoring Charles and contributing to Raven’s ongoing wedding planning.

“Thank you darling,” Charles says, throwing a glare towards Raven then sipping his tea triumphantly.

“Now sad clowns. A little parisian cirque inspiration…” Erik says with a smirk, looking squarely at Charles. Raven smiles at him brilliantly and Charles can tell she’s thinking fire eaters and women tumbling down long silks hung from the ballroom ceiling and Charles does not want to have to start chest compressions on his own mother when she hears about the plans.

“ERIK!” Charles says, almost spitting out his tea. “Do NOT encourage her. Mother will not be happy…”

“Oh pwshaw,” Raven sighs, “get Sharon drunk enough and she’ll be happy with pretty much anything. I love it Erik. I’ll let her dress up the corgis in little top hats. I mean, if she doesn’t have a dog show to go to on the day of the wedding.”

It’s a joke. At least that’s what the small huff of laughter that follows says, but Charles knows better. Sometimes Charles hates his mother. She won’t miss Raven’s wedding, but there’s always that lingering doubt fed by the countless times she’s missed other important events in their lives.

“All I want is to see your ass in a tuxedo again,” Erik says from behind his book and Charles blushes and mutters, ‘oh god’. This causes Raven to sigh again.

“Seriously, brother. No need to go all coy. It’s no secret that Erik loves your ass. He asked me to sculpt it the other day.”

“HE DID NOT!” Charles spits out, whipping his head around to stare at his husband, who is waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Charles isn’t sure if Erik’s eyebrows are indicating that he did indeed make that request or that he didn’t but he thinks it’s a rather brilliant idea.

“Beards are in,” Eriks says, ignoring Charles’ glare. “And flannel. I think I’d look very self sufficient. Mountain man.”

“I think you’d look like someone whose husband doesn’t like getting chafed during a blow job.” Charles mutters. Erik ignores him.

“It would make Summers really jealous.”

Scott had apparently had some sort of crisis of conscience and had taken a medicine attending position at the same hospital where Charles and Erik work about three months ago. The day it was announced, Erik came to the ER and pulled him aside, asking if he was okay. Charles had nodded and amazingly enough, he really was okay. Scott Summers finally meant nothing to him. Erik on the other hand hated having to work in the same building with Scott, made an extra effort to glare at him whenever he could, and would loudly mention his husband, Charles, you know, CHARLES XAVIER, the cute nurse in the ER, as often as possible.

“Why in the world would Scott be jealous?” Charles asks.

“I’m pretty sure he can’t grow a beard like I can,” Erik answers, grinning.

“I don’t think you get what I’m saying about the blow jobs, love,” Charles says politely, taking another sip of tea. “If a beard happens, I will not be asking for any. Or giving any.”

“Oh,” Erik says. Charles knows from the look on his face that there will be no beard. He’ll have to find a different way to continue his pissing match with Scott Summers.

“I’ll cover your delicate ears, baby,” Raven says to Hank, clapping her hands to either side of his head. Hank smiles from behind his glasses.

Charles yawns widely and dramatically and Raven glances at him, making a face. He gives her a wan little smile that says in no uncertain terms, ‘get the fuck out of my house,’ and Raven pushes Hank up off her lap.

“Have to work in the morning,” Charles says, stretching a little. It’s true. Tomorrow morning he’ll be waking in the dark, rolling out of bed, throwing on his scrubs and heading to the train. But he also thinks a blow job sounds really nice after all, and he always sleeps better after having an orgasm. This means Raven and Hank need to get the hell out. Now.

“Charles,” Erik says, putting his book down, “I was going to offer some dessert. I have these nice Italian cookies….”

“Sleepytime.” Charles interrupt curtly, glancing over at Erik. He looks back at Charles and raises an eyebrow. He knows Charles doesn't mean the herbal tea blend and that as soon as his sister and her fiance close the door behind them he'll be taking Erik by the hand and leading him to their bedroom. Forget the dishes. He can do them in the morning. He’s off-service right now anyway, so he has time. And that means that he can suck me off, then Charles can pull on his pajamas, roll onto his side and sleep.

“It’s fine brother and bro-in-law,” Raven says, standing up and grabbing her purse that is sitting on the coffee table. “We know when it’s time for us to exit stage left. Come on Hanky Panky.”

Hank unfolds himself from the couch and looks at Charles and Erik a little sheepishly, as if to apologize for his nickname. It’s what Raven’s been calling him for a while now but who knows how long it will stick. Next week it could be something worse, like sugar lump.

“See you next week,” Hank says over his shoulder and he follows Raven down the stairs towards the front door of the town home.

“Erik is cooking,” Charles says, waving his hand a little, “Bye!”

Once the door slams shut, Charles turns to Erik and takes his hand, pulling him towards the bedroom.

“The dishes,” Erik protests, as Charles had expected him to.

“In the morning.” Charles says, licking his lips. Erik nods. In the morning. Right now there are other things that must be tended to. Like your hot nurse husband’s cock, Charles thinks to himself.

The wedding is in three months. Raven ends up settling on the Parisian cirque theme Erik had suggested, but there will be no clowns. Unsurprisingly, there will be fire eaters and acrobats. The surprising part is that Sharon doesn’t blink an eye when Raven tells her the plans. She actually smiles and Charles wonders at the time if maybe she was drunk. This had left Raven feeling entirely annoyed that she couldn’t find a way to scandalize their mother, which makes Charles realize that Sharon is a hell of a lot smarter than he gives her credit for, and most likely was not drunk at all. She is just terribly clever, although she did look genuinely delighted at the idea of her corgis in tiny top hats.

One morning Charles is heading down the hallway to see a patient when Erik appears from the opposite direction, coffee in hand and a huge smile on his face. This makes Charles smile as his man-clogs squeak his way towards the man he left sleeping heavily in bed that morning as he headed out into the cold for another shift.

“Hello husband,” Erik says when he’s finally standing in front of Charles, holding out the paper cup of coffee. It’s an intimate rumble meant only for his ears, but Charles glances around just to make sure Scott isn’t lurking around somewhere and it’s actually for his benefit.

“Break room,” Charles says, nodding at the cup in Erik’s hand, “I'm passing meds. And put my name on it, love. Angel is here and she’ll probably steal it if it’s not claimed.”

Erik has become a fixture in the break room in the last six months, sitting with Charles as he scarfs down his lunch. Angel has asked more than once if his husband actually sees patients because he seems to be readily available to have lunch whenever Charles can grab a break.

“Your mother asked if we could come to the estate this weekend,” Erik says, falling in stride with Charles as he continues to walk towards where his patient is lying on a gurney, moaning about a bad headache that she thinks some IV dilaudid will help with.

“Sharon did?” Charles asks, looking suspiciously at Erik. “You talked to her?”

Charles has still not forgiven Sharon for the standing mixer monstrosity that occupies their kitchen counter, but he has forgiven her for bringing hot German pain specialists for the Xavier Fellowship, and maybe for the whole Xavier Fellowship debacle in the first place.

“We email.” Erik says without blinking.

“You EMAIL? Sharon?”

“We’re friends,” Erik says, and now his eyes are sparking with mischief. “We meet for coffee.”

“You do NOT!” Charles says, rolling his eyes, “good god, I found someone who mother actually likes.”

“I’m very charming.”

“Is that what you call it?” Charles asks. He reaches a hand out and touches Erik on the arm, earning himself a somewhat smoldering glance, and Charles thinks he might have to remind Erik one more time that supply closets are for supplies. Only supplies.

“Raven wants to meet for more wedding planning.” Erik says, taking a sip of his coffee, then commenting that it’s particularly good that morning.

“Are you emailing her too?” Charles asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’m the social hub of this marriage, Charles. Haven’t you figured that out?”

“You’re incorrigible. That’s what you are. And ridiculous.” Charles lowers his voice to a whisper causing Erik to have to lean in just a little bit more, coming just a little more closer, “and goddamn sexy as well.”

“As are you, Charles. Very. You would not believe what I had you doing this morning as I jerked off before I rolled out of bed. You were quite lovely. We should try it for real, although I’m not sure if you're THAT flexible...hmmmm...."

Charles swallows. He needs to make some rules about seeing Erik at work. Only two minutes allowed at any time. No flirting. Good god, no sex talk. He has most of his shift left to go, then a train ride before he can get home and jump this man, and even then there’s a good chance he’ll be way too tired for much more than some quick relief from the fact that he’s probably going to spend the rest of the day mildly turned on.

“I hate you, Erik Lehnsherr.”

Erik smiles, that same huge grin that tells Charles that his husband is either terribly happy or terribly pleased with himself. Or both.

“No you don’t.” Erik says then turns and heads towards the break room, leaving Charles smiling idiotically and twitterpated in the hallway. Oh yeah. Med pass. Patients. Work. Damn that man.

Raven picks out her dress. She drags Charles along with a pout, telling him that she hasn’t seen much of him since he got married.

“What about Sunday dinners? I see you every Sunday,” Charles says, leaning back on the very comfortable couch in the dressing room of the bridal shop, sipping on a nice cup of Earl Grey the staff had brought him.

“It’s not the same brother!” Raven says, turning around to look at the back of a huge, fluffy monstrosity she’s trying on. Charles winces. It’s just not...not, um RAVEN. “It was just you and me for a long time. You know, just me cooking you dinner.”

“You mean just you breaking into my house and hijacking my kitchen before I got home from work for your culinary experiments.”

Raven ignores him.

“Now there’s Erik. You know I adore him. He makes you so much more bearable.”

“Ha.”

“And Hank. And I’m getting married…” Raven stops looking at the back of the dress, “This one?” she asks, leveling a gaze at Charles.

“God, no. I thought you were going to wear black.”

Raven’s mouth twists a little and she looks wistfully at Charles.

“I just...I don’t know about black, Charles. Aren’t you supposed to wear white?”

Charles laughs. Since when has Raven done anything she’s supposed to do. He tilts his head back and motions to the assistant who is lingering in the back of the room.

“My sister,” he starts, and he’s using his best I’m-a-posh-rich-kid voice, “is a little less traditional than this, um, dress. Do you have something a little more edgy?”

The woman nods and rushes out of the room. Another woman comes forward and helps Raven out of the layers of tulle and lace she’s trapped in, and she’s left standing in her bra and panties. Charles grabs the silk robe that’s draped next to him on the couch and throws it her way. She grabs her own mug of tea off the side table then slumps next to Charles, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It’s just,” Raven says, taking a sip, “it’s all going to change, Charles. It’s not going to be just you and me anymore. It’s going to be me and Hank, you and Erik. We’re both going to be married, Charles. Married with husbands.”

“I know,” Charles says, and he feels a small pang of loss. Change is something that doesn’t come easy to him, and there’s been a lot of it lately. “We’ll be okay, Raven. We always have been.”

“I love you, Charles,” she sighs, leaning more onto his shoulder.

“Me too, sis.”

Their moment is interrupted by the assistant rolling a rack of dresses in front of Raven, telling her they’re from Vera Wang’s black wedding dress collection. Raven’s eyes grow wide and she claps her hands together. No white, Charles thinks. White would be wrong for Raven.

“I’m going to have to change my hair color back to black,” Raven says, grinning, and Charles thinks that Hank’s fingernails won’t be far behind. It’s going to be an amazing wedding.

Two weeks later Charles is enjoying a day off with Erik, who is reading the paper and huffing about the current state of the world.

“It’s ridiculous,” he says and Charles wonders if Erik realizes that he’s talking to himself.

“What is dear?” Charles sighs, thinking about if he’s going to go for a run or not, and not much else beyond that.

“The drug policy in this country. It’s hurting people. Another fucking drug czar spouting off about the danger of marijuana, but alcohol is legal. We need to legalize pot…”

“Raven would be happy,” Charles says.

“Raven and I were actually texting about it the other night.”

Of course, Charles thinks. He smiles at his husband who seems to have charmed every single one of his family members.

“Oh,” Erik says, lowering the newspaper and looking at Charles in a way that makes him feel very nervous, “she said the sculpture of your ass is almost done.”

Charles levels a glare at Erik, making it VERY serious.

“You do know what will happen if any artwork representing my ass shows up in our house, don’t you darling? Not to mention the fact that I find my sister taking time to observe my ass as inspiration for her artwork a bit, um, disturbing.”

“Oh. That,” Erik says, biting at his lip a bit, “well, I might have sent her pictures.”

“Erik?” Charles says, his voice sounding disturbed and panicked, “where did you get pictures of my ass?”

“Well,” Erik says, looking away, “I might have taken a few on my phone while you were sleeping. For, um, later.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“Charles?”

“I’m going to die. I’m seriously going to DIE. If someone got ahold of your phone, my ass would be on it.”

“It’s my screensaver.”

“ERIK! Do you EVER stop?”

“I make sure to take it out and use it prominently around Summers.”

Charles has nothing left to say. Clearly Erik never does stop. He puts his paper back up but it’s shaking from his silent laughter.

“I’m ignoring you.” Charles says.

The next morning Charles wakes to Erik mouthing his way down his neck while simultaneously grabbing his ass, and it’s not entirely fair to be jerked out of a sound sleep by a very turned on husband who seems to have one thing on his mind. At the same time it's rather delightful and Charles moans his appreciation.

"Good dream?" Charles manages to gasp as Erik's fingers skin along the crack of his ass making him shiver for just a little more.

"The best," Erik says against his shoulder just before he drops a kiss on it, "waking up with you is always a dream."

"Oh god," Charles manage to gasp, partly because Erik might be the cheesiest person to ever grace the earth and partially because those fingers are pushing a little further inward and despite the fact that Charles is still shaking off the cobwebs of sleep, his cock is wide awake and he wants....

"Good?" Erik asks, leering up at him.

"Unnngh," Charles moans back. It's morning and they're going to the flower market today to help Hank with flower decisions, and oh jesus christ, fuck it. Charles turns his head, his mouth seeking, wanting, aching to be kissed and he must make some sort of begging noise because despite the fact that Erik is poised to lace that talented tongue over Charles' pebbled right nipple, he immediately changes course, slides on top of Charles and kisses him. Eats him up really, and Charles can't help but think that Erik is truly delicious in the morning. He shifts a bit under Erik's weight, spreading his legs so Erik settled nicely between them, like he always does. Then he wraps his legs around Erik's slim waist, winds his hands around his neck, tangles his fingers in the hair that's curling and sweat-damp at the nape of Erik's neck, and despite having almost no leverage in this position, tries to press himself up against Erik's very hard cock.

"Charles," Erik gasps, and his surprise forces him to break their kiss, giving Charles the chance to growl, 'fuck me'.

"No foreplay?" Erik says, sounding amused.

"Um, no." Charles says huskily. "Fuck me, you asshole. You started all of this."

Now Erik is laughing, causing Charles to attempt to buck harder against him. Why in the hell did he decide this was a good position? He’s about to unwrap his legs from Erik’s waist when Erik stretches and reaches to grab the bottle of lube from where they keep it conveniently stashed then grins down at him. He hands the bottle to Charles.

“You do the honors, since otherwise I might squish you.”

Charles squirts some into his right hand post-haste then reaches between them as Erik pushes himself up higher to give Charles access to his cock and Charles watches as Erik’s jaw goes slack at the touch of Charles’ hand. Erik, usually so stern and intense coming undone just from his touch might be the most beautiful thing Charles has ever seen. He would say so except Erik’s brow is furrowed a little as he concentrates on positioning himself and then he’s pushing himself inwards, past that slightly resisting ring of muscle and Charles is rendered speechless, tipping his head back, and he lets go, and lets sensation wash over him. There will be time to tell Erik that he’s the most beautiful man on earth later. Charles keeps his eyes open, watching Erik the whole time as he slams into Charles, hips jerking, and Charles braces himself on the bed, hands gripping the sheets, scrambling for purchase, loving every thing about his husband fucking him like there’s no tomorrow. Just as Erik’s face gets that somewhat far away look and his eyes start to flutter shut, Charles reaches up his hand, strokes Erik’s jaw with his finger and whispers to him.

“Look at me, my love. Look at me.”

Erik does as requested and Charles watches those ice-blue eyes go unfocused as he orgasms, Charles’ name on his lips.

Erik collapses on top of Charles, panting, almost laughing as he watches Charles through  
hooded eyes.

"You," Erik manages to gasp, "how are you so amazingly talented? I think you just gave me a heart attack."

Charles doesn't answer but he gets a funny idea that flickers around in his head. Even though he’s obnoxiously turned on and would really like Erik to take care of him, he gets up, pushing Erik off him and ignoring his protests as he pushes away his husband's hands that are trying to keep him in bed. He goes to his work bag and starts rummaging. Charles finds his stethoscope and returns to the bed, climbing over Erik, who is now lying on his back and Charles straddles his hips. He pops the earpieces in and leans down, pressing the bell to Erik's chest, Erik's eyes watching him the entire time. Charles listens to the steady thumpity thump of Erik's heart with great joy. He loves every part of this man. Erik is silent, watching Charles' every move.

"Nope. Good rhythm. Perfect rate. No heart attack."

Charles scoots further down Erik's body until he's straddling Erik's knees and staring down at his now flaccid cock. Charles takes the bell of the stethoscope and presses it to Erik's penis, and he knits his brow in mock concern.

"Uh oh," Charles smiles, "call a code."

“Ha ha,” Erik says, then he looks pointedly at Charles hard, flushed, leaking cock, “Now, I think I owe you something.”

“Yes you do,” murmurs Charles.

“Wouldn’t want to be rude.”

“No,” Charles says, crawling back up Erik then leaning down to rest himself on his husband’s chest, his lips hovering just above the other man’s. “No you wouldn’t.”

After having very lovely morning sex, Charles is feeling rather content and not like browsing through flowers with Hank, but they had promised. Hank had asked Erik to walk with him down the aisle, and ever since then Erik had felt a special bond to the gangly scientist who looks at Raven like she makes the sun rise. They’d even gone out and played racquetball together, despite Erik’s admission that he’d never played racquetball in his life. It’s what guys do, he told Charles. Really. Charles had never seen that section in the It’s What Guys Do Handbook.

Charles gets out of the shower after cleaning off the evidence of their morning activity. He walks into the kitchen towelling off his hair and still naked to find Erik heartily attacking a bowl of cold cereal.

“Disgusting stuff,” Charles says. Erik glances up and gives him a look of appreciation.

“Yummy.” Erik says, his mouth full. Charles doesn’t know if he’s talking about him or the cereal. Maybe both. Charles wanders to the laundry room, takes a pair of boxers and sweats out of the dryer and pulls them on, then walks back into the kitchen. He turns on the electric kettle then goes to sit down while the water for his tea warms up.

“Not an improvement,” Erik says, smiling. “I like you naked better. I would like it if you did everything naked.”

“Ha.” Charles says, flashing Erik a quick smile. Erik returns it, then he takes something he’s been holding in his lap and puts it on the table. It’s a plain white envelope.

“Six months.” Erik says, and his smile grows so wide Charles is almosts blinded by it. “And just so you know, all arrangements have been made. I’ve had a little help.”

“Six months,” Charles asks, not entirely following Erik’s train of thought about the envelope, “A little help?”

“Since the train. The day we met. Open it.”

Charles picks up the envelope. It’s nondescript, light. He makes a face and pretends to rattle it, as if he can hear what’s inside, and this makes Erik smile. His name is written on the outside in Erik’s plain, sharp handwriting.

“No hearts and curlicues saying ‘I love you’?” Charles asks, turning it over in his hands.

“I can take it back it you’re going to be a smart ass,” Erik says, but his smile doesn’t fade. “Stop teasing already, Charles. Open it.”

Charles rips open the envelope and inside is a card. A plain white card with a beautiful sketch of the Eiffel tower on it.

“Paris?” Charles says, looking at Erik. “It’s a nice sketch….”

“It will look even better in person,” Erik says slyly. “We’ll have a view from our hotel.”

“Our hotel?”

“And I speak French.”

Charles swallows. Good god, he’s been married to the man for five months and he doesn’t know he speaks FRENCH? What the hell? He stares at Erik.

“Paris?” Charles asks again. “But….”

“And we never got a proper honeymoon…”

Honeymoon? Seriously? Charles feels happiness start to almost explode in his chest.

“Um, work?” Charles stammers.

“Talked to your manager. You get two weeks off. It’s all arranged. We leave the day after the wedding.”

“Erik!” Charles says, “this is really...I mean, I just didn’t ever think….”

They were married then Charles went back to work a few days later. There was barely any planning for the ceremony so he’d never thought of something like a honeymoon. The thought had never even crossed his mind, and now his husband had done all the planning and was going to whisk him away. It was just...just so terribly overwhelming. And lovely. Incredibly lovely.

“Raven said you like Paris,” Erik is saying as Charles looks at the card in his hand. He’s going to have it framed. It’s going into their bedroom where Charles can look at it every morning when he gets up and remember how incredibly thoughtful Erik is. The tea kettle dings indicating it’s time to go make his cup of Earl Grey, but Charles doesn’t hear it. He stands up and walks over to Erik, who has stopped talking and is staring up at him.

“Scoot your chair back,” Charles says, and once Erik does, he proceeds to climb into his lap, take his face in his hands and kiss Erik soundly. It’s not a prelude to sex. It’s not a quick hello. It’s thank you. Thank you for thinking of this. Thank you for taking him to Paris. Thank you for being the crazy creeper who stalked him on the train, stealth dated him and then somehow convinced Charles that the answer to all his problems was to marry someone he’d known for a month.

“You like it?” Erik asks when Charles is done.

“I love it!” Charles gushes, “I love Paris. I love you. I can’t wait to love you in Paris.”

“Excellent,” Erik says, tilting his head up and looking at Charles like another kiss might be entirely appropriate. “And just so you know, this would have all been THAT much better if you’d been naked.”

The weeks fly by and they finally reach the rehearsal dinner. It’s the night before the wedding and everyone is in high spirits. There isn’t much to rehearse. The only people in the wedding besides Raven and Hank will be Charles and Erik. Charles will stand with Raven and Erik with Hank. Instead of doing a lot of run-throughs, they all end up in a bar in North Salem, ordering rounds of drinks, Sharon regaling everyone with society tales from the Westchester County rich and not that famous. Charles looks at his mother and thinks that she looks surprisingly happy. He leans into Erik, feeling content, alcohol buzzing in his veins, and he thinks that life is amazing. He looks across the table and sees that Raven is watching him. She puts her hand to her lips then blows him a kiss. Charles smiles.

Their world is changing. It’s been just him and his sister for so long, the two of them holding each other up. They’ve been through the death of their dad, the general inconsideration of their mother, Charles falling in love and having his heart broken. Raven has been there the whole time, and as much as he knows that the order of things dictate that she can’t be his main person forever, and he should be happy, for Charles this wedding is tinged with melancholy. He knows that after tomorrow Raven won’t be just his. She’ll be Hank’s and he’s already Erik’s.

He tells this to Raven the next day as she’s getting her dress zipped up. It’s an [amazing black and tan piece](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xfkmilakykc/T7sdrG5TvbI/AAAAAAAAEHE/vWa3JoZLQ7w/s1600/vera_wang_fall_2012_black_tan_wedding_dress-black-corset_top_champange_blusH-tulle_layers_look_7.png) that’s entirely Raven. Her hair is dyed black, swept up, making her neck look long, and Charles thinks that his little sister looks awfully grown-up and so beautiful.

“Oh Charles,” Raven sighs, her eyes shining as she looks at him, “change is hard. I know.”

“You do?”

“You went from sad and angsting to married and in love overnight. I didn’t even know Erik when you told me you were marrying him. I cried, Charles. I was so happy for you, but everything changed so fast and I felt a little lost and really left out.”

“Raven,” Charles says, his heart hurting a little. He had no idea. He was so caught up in Erik that he didn’t stop to think how any of this affected his sister.

“It’s okay,” Raven says, “well, I mean, I dealt with it. I love you. I never told you, but that night you told me, after you left, well...Hank held me and I cried all night.”

“If I’d known,” Charles says, feeling his eyes fill with tears. “I would have asked Erik to wait, would have…”

Raven waves a hand at him.

“Don’t be silly, Charles. You and Erik, you’re perfect. I would never ask you to live your life for me, to make me feel better. It’s okay. I just needed to cry because I realized that we can’t stay the same forever. It can’t just be you and me. Marriage, kids…”

“Kids?” Charles says, arching an eyebrow. Raven blushes and looks sheepish.

“Yeah, I think so. I can’t pass up a chance to fuck someone else up at least half as much as Sharon did to us. But not now. Hank and I need to have some time to be married, and I have some big art shows coming up. But in a few years...yeah....kids. Uncle Charles and Uncle Erik.”

Charles thinks about Raven with a kid. He shakes his head. How did they all end up here? Married. Happy.

“I guess we all grow up sometime.” he says, reaching out and taking Raven’s hand in his. Raven laughs, her eyes crinkling around the edges, her smile brilliant, and she’s glowing so brightly Charles wants to shield his eyes.

“Don’t put that on me, Charles dearest. I’m having people breathing fire as I walk down the aisle. And corgis in top hats.”

Charles snorts. She’s right. Raven will never be entirely grown-up.

“Now, I’m sure your husband is waiting for you.”

“I think he’s talking Hank down off the cliff.”

“Yeah, uh, no. Hank pretty much asked me to marry him on the third date. We have a lot in common, Charles Xavier. We inspire fierce devotion and loyalty in our mates. I just didn’t give in as quickly as you did.”

“I was just trying not to date Erik,” Charles says, smiling. “it sounds crazy but it made sense at the time.”

One of the wedding coordinators pokes her head into the room and tells them it’s almost time. Raven stands up and teeters over to Charles in her ridiculously high heels and wraps her arms around him. Charles pulls her close and squeezes her as hard as he can.

“I love you, Charles,” Raven says, “I couldn’t ask for a better brother.”

“And I couldn’t ask for a better sister,” Charles answers.

“And when we all get back from our trips, we’ll have Sunday dinner again.”

“Yes,” Charles laughs, “yes we will. Sunday dinner with my family.”

He releases Raven then offers her his arm. She smiles at him, loops her arm through his and they walk toward the hallway that will lead them to the ballroom that is full of fire eaters and acrobats dangling from silks and rings. It’s a very Raven and Hank wedding, and Charles thinks outside the day he and Erik were married on the train, it might be the happiest day of his life.

After the ceremony is done and Raven and Hank are married, there is a party to end all parties. Amazing food and endless champagne. Sharon has spared no expense and had reminded Charles several times during the planning that she had to get her wedding fix because she’d missed her son’s wedding. This was usually accompanied by a pointed look followed by Erik saying something charming to his mother, flashing Charles a smile, making Charles want to fall at his feet and declare, ‘my hero!’.

There is dancing. A band is on the stage, a woman singing beautiful traditional Parisian songs, her voice belting out over the guests in a slow and sensuous tune. Erik looks at Charles and holds out his hand.

“Is it okay if I ask you to dance?” He asks Charles.

“Please,” Charles says, smiling. He takes Erik’s hand and lets himself be led into the crowd of happy, dancing guests. He wraps his arms around Erik’s neck and dips his head to Erik’s chest, inhaling how good he smells. Erik dips his head to whisper in Charles’ ear.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

Charles thinks about another dance in this same room, how he had walked right up to the edge, terrified that he would fall over it again, that he would end up with another broken heart, but he couldn’t stay away.

“Yes, we have,” Charles whispers back, feeling entirely overwhelmed. He holds onto Erik tighter, thinking that life is such a strange thing. It wasn’t that long ago that he thought he’d never find someone to love, and now not only does he get to wake up every morning to a maddeningly obnoxious, sexy, sweet Erik, his sister is all grown up and married to a man who adores her. Even with fire eaters and corgis in top hats, they are growing up. It feels good. It feels right.

“I love you, Charles.” Erik says, his breath hot on Charles’ ear, full of promises, devotion, adoration, love. So much love it hurts.

Charles closes his eyes. His cheeks are wet as the tears that have been threatening to well up all night finally spill over. Everything right now is perfect. Just the way it should be.

“I love you too, Erik.” Charles whispers back.

Now and forever.

~fin~


End file.
